The Taming of a Tweaker
by Cutie Pie 9335
Summary: Craig struggles with math, but Tweek can help - for a price. He wants to be taught by the king of apathy to be cool- how not to care. But then some things might just be worth caring about. Creek.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Alright, so it has taken me just an obscenely long time to get this story up and I sincerely apologize, I'm super cereal guys. So, as most of you probably don't know, a friend of mine and a fellow fic writer - .Pen. - had a birthday a loooong while ago and I finally got my lazy ass to write her a Creek story, so hopefully she won't murder me now. Basically, the summary says it all. It's a cute, fun fic about Craig trying to teach Tweek how to not care about anything, but as the two begin to get closer, Craig begins to question how good of an idea that may be. ^_^ THIS IS NOT A ONESHOT, REPEAT, NOT A ONESHOT. Indeed this fic will last a good couple of chapters!**

**I hope all of you enjoy, and please check out the lovely Miss .Pen's profile, I'm sure I've got her down as one of my favorite authors somewhere on my shitty lil profile. Please enjoy this story, and I would say review but eh, do or don't, I don't really care cause the only person who HAs to review is her, caus eif she doesn't IMA MURDER HER! **

**Enjoy.**

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><p><span>Chapter 1: The Deal<span>

"Come on Tweek, just relax."

Already I could feel my brows twitching with concentration on trying to be _calm_, something I've never been good at. My eyes flicked behind their lids helplessly – I was dying to open them – and I would squirm anytime a whiff of the incense candles burning nearby drifted toward me. My jeans felt too loose on my hips and my t-shirt too tight on my shoulders and I had an itch on my big toe that I was dying to scratch, which then of course got me worrying if it's _normal_ to have an itchy toe. Oh god, toe-itchiness was probably the symptom of some rare disease. Shit!

"I…trying," I ground out between my clenched teeth, my temples throbbing with an on-coming headache.

"That's it, you're trying too hard. Open your eyes," Craig sighed audibly. My eyes flew open, the sight of Craig's bedroom upside down greeting me with him appearing to be defying gravity by sitting upon a bed that also appeared to be glued to a carpeted ceiling.

With one last feeble shake, my arms – the only thing keeping me steady – gave out, leaving me too fall away from the wall I was leaning on and land face-first into the floor.

"H-h-how in _hell_ is being upside down going to – gah! – make me feel better?" I cried angrily as I sat up, snatching the pillow my head had been resting and chucking it at Craig's. He dodged it easily, however the projectile smashed into his bedside lamp, effectively knocking the object to the ground with a clatter. "I'm n-not gonna apologize for-for breaking it – that thing – er, the lamp."

Craig didn't even respond but instead opted to turn back to his math homework and set his chin thoughtfully back upon his knee.

"I don't get this problem," he mumbled softly, lightly chewing upon the end of his eraser. With a grunt, I got up from the ground and sat down adjacent to my friend, leaning over him to get a good look at the type of math he was doing in his class.

That was our arrangement – I would tutor him in math if he could teach me how to 'chill out' as he calls it.

But this agreement all started about a day or so ago.

. . . . .

"Hey Tweek!"

"Tweek, dude, party this Friday."

"Yo, Tweek-meister! How's it hanging?"

"Hi, Tweek," cue girlish giggling.

That was about how every passing period between classes and before school was for me while I wandered to my next subject. I don't exactly know how or even why, but I was considered to be one of the most popular guys at South Park High – maybe because people thought I was weird or maybe courageous for 'dealing with such a handicap' or maybe just because I was nice – I don't honestly know. All I do know is anytime someone says something to me, I just duck my head, mumble a meek 'hi', and avoid, avoid, _avoid._

I was friends with lots of kids from my school, or at least it would appear to be that way, considering I hung out with two star players on the football team - Clyde and Token. It also didn't hurt that Stan and I were friends, him being the quarterback. And with my smarts and being on the basketball team, it kept me close to Kyle, who was the president of the academic decathlon team and star-player. I even had a bit of edginess, what with being associated with Cartman and helping with his pranks every now and again. Girls seemed to like me because I often hung out the number one lady-killer, Kenny, even though I could barely string two sentences together around someone of the opposite sex without having a spaz-attack.

But really, I was just an abnormally tall teen who liked playing basketball, got decent grades, and enjoyed the intermittent party and mischief. Nothing that would make me 'popular' but apparently, that's just how it was. Yet, that's not how things really seemed like for me. I still felt like such a freak, twitching and freaking out every second like some sort of mental patient. It was pathetic.

For example, I was walking idly around the school halls because I knew that I had a test right now in P.E. class where we had to climb a rope in a certain amount of time, but there was just so much _pressure_. All those people watching, all those eyes and all those expectations. I wanted to be able to walk in, calmly, and just climb up there like it was no big deal, shrugging it off.

_But no_, _I'm just cracked-out Tweek the tweaker,_ I sighed, stuffing my hands in my jean's pockets. Other people may seem to like me, but what's the point if I can't even like myself? Now that was one hard pill to swallow.

"…did you just flip me off?" I heard the enraged yell of a male teacher's voice nearby, perhaps coming from down the other side of the corridor. Deftly, I drew nearer, already feeling apprehensive because oh god, what if it's some mass-murdering teen with an AK-47 and one hell of a grudge? Silently, I begged for forgiveness if I'd ever done anything terrible in my life.

"You're damn right," came the smooth reply in a voice that was familiar. "Fuck you, Mr. Brown, I'm out."

Suddenly, the classroom door was flung open just a couple yards away and Craig strolled out with his fingers laced behind his blue chullo hat, looking bored even as the teacher screamed at him to return to his seat. I watched as he held up his middle finger over his shoulder before kicking the door closed behind him without even once glancing back.

Craig Tucker is the epitomy of cool.

"Hey," he gave a nod of his head – awesomely – before waltzing on over, as if he could just glide with his smooth movements.

"Oh – uh – h-h-hey Craig," I managed to stutter out finally. To my erratic speech, most people were either one of two way: 1) purposefully oblivious or 2) bluntly annoyed. But then Craig had his own reaction – nothing. He looked neither annoyed or pretended to be not bothered by it – which almost seems impossible to not be one way or the other, but Craig magically was, like he just didn't really give a crap about anything.

"Been awhile," he murmured, slightly arching an eyebrow at me to show that he was actually curious about me, "what've you been up to lately?"

"N-not much," I admitted, "not like I don't have a social life – because I totally totally do – but not like one of those, oh you know, way-to-into-themselves party people but just like a I'm-nice-but-not-overly-jerk-ish type. But, yeah, parties…fun and stuff – so is basketball – fun, that is."

It took Craig just a moment, as if he was mentally converting everything back over into his simplified speak until at last he gave me that slow dip of his head that he understood. He didn't have to use words and never even had to worry about rambling like some sort of whacky weirdo – he could just be calm, cool, collected Craig who doesn't give a rip about anyone or anything.

"You're probably wondering what just happened," he observed, flicking those dark brown eyes across me; already I felt my neck and cheeks heat up from the pressure of his direct gaze on me, as if it could melt the very flesh from my bones. I couldn't help but cringe at my own gruesome thoughts.

"Yeah," was the only thing I managed to squeak out.

"It's just that I got another bad grade on a math test and it doesn't help when your teacher finds enjoyment from announcing my bad score to the class." Craig sighed in about the most un-Craig-like way I'd ever seen.

"Icouldtutoryou!" I blurted out in a jumble of words and then promptly slapped a hand across my mouth. The black-haired teen arched an eyebrow at me inquisitively.

"But what would you want in return?"

_Huh?_ I hadn't considered that, but then when I stared back at Craig, for the first time in my life truly feeling something over than being a nervous mess, I knew exactly what I wanted from him.

"I-if I help you with math, you'll have to also show me how to be more like you – cool."

Craig suddenly extended his hand toward me, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. I pushed aside all of the worries of how clean his hand was and how I would just _die_ if I don't wash my hand after this and latched on. We gave each other a firm squeeze, then a shake.

It was a deal.

. . . . .

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><p><strong>Author's After-Note: Alright, this is just like the set-up chapter. We get more into what Craig does to help Tweek, which as you glimpsed in the beginning, can be at times a bit silly and nonsensical. Til next time, darlings!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Okie dokie, so I saw _X-Men: First Class_ and it was freaking awesome, people. If you guys like slash, watch that movie because I swear to god, there is such a freaking canon couple. **

**Anyway, so here's the next chapter :) Dedicated to _theyellowsky_ as always so really you all can review but she better review or else I'll kick her ass, and I suggest you guys check out her stuff and PM her cause she's a freaking beast. Yup, and super patient ;) Hope you (oh you know who you are) like this and you (yeah, you!) better review (or else!)**

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><p><span>Chapter 2: A Bit Too Close to Home <span>

"I – uh – don't think that this, you know, is all that good of an idea, Craig – I mean, what if I knock something over or – Jesus, what if -,"

"You already broke my lamp," he stated in a deadly calm voice.

"…a-a-accident, remember?"

Craig turned his back to me and headed back over to his stereo in the corner. This was day 2 of our little deal and Craig was sure that he'd found a way to get rid of some of the "pressure" – with moshing. As soon as his hand touched the dial, his bedroom was absolutely filled with the demented screams and thunderous bass of scream-o music. He was dancing – if you could even call it that – like he was possessed, arms and legs jerking around while his head was just a blur of his dark hair.

"Come on Tweek!" the shorter teen hollered over the heavy-metal. "Just dance!"

After another moment of hesitation, Craig grabbed my wrists and began to move them roughly as if I were a ragdoll. But soon, I found myself moving of my own accord. I even started to head-bang a little, my blonde spikes flipping around my face and obscuring my vision of the dark haired teen.

And then Craig shoved me. Hard.

My back collided with the wall behind me, my head snapping back to become acquainted with the firm surface as well. For the briefest of moments, I saw stars and suddenly wondered if I'd broken a brain cell or something, but then something else came over me.

I pushed back. Harder.

Craig stumbled backwards until the back of his knees hit square against his bed frame, causing him to fall backwards onto the deep blue comforter. I felt satisfied in pushing him down, but I still felt pretty bad – what if I injured him? I approached the bed and Craig's motionless form and reached out to poke him. But then Craig sat up, looking pissed just by the ever so slant of his brows and the grim line his mouth was taking on. He snatched my hand none too gently and yanked.

"Ack-!"

With a yelp, I toppled over onto the dark haired teen, who in turn grunted when my whole weight was on top of him. Craig squirmed out from underneath me and aimed to put me in some sort of headlock, which I quickly rolled away from.

But as soon as I had reached the edge of the bed, Craig pounced, landing right on top of me, straddling me and pinning my legs down by clamping his knees over my thighs. He leaned over to restrain my wrists, but as soon as his fingers made contact with my skin, I shifted all of my weight.

The sheer look of surprise of Craig's face when I turned the tables on him was priceless. We ended back at the center of his bed, me doing an awkward push-up position over him with my large hands grasping his forearms to hold him down. Craig's legs were now hooked behind on my lower back while my calves dangled gawkily over the side.

For a moment, we stayed like that until the fight and tension left both of our bodies, leaving the two of us to stare-down the other. I heard a faint thumping in my ears and I could my heart beating within my own chest, but when I looked down on Craig, I saw that one small portion of his neck was pulsing. As if in a trance, I freed one of my hands only to trail it down his jaw line with ghosting fingers and finally rest upon the place of interest on his neck.

"Huh," I frowned, "I – uh, well it s-seems you do have a-a – you know, a heart."

Craig just glared back, obviously not amused. I pushed myself up off of him and walked over to turn the music down. Behind me, I could hear Craig rummaging around in his back pack for his homework and then flop back down upon his bed.

"Okay, so explain this to me, smart guy," he demanded in that lightly nasally yet morose voice. I rejoined him back on the comforter, crossing my lanky legs to fit in beside him.

"Oh, this s-s-shit's really easy – ack! – not like you're stupid! Or –er, anything like that…," I trialed off, opting instead to just shut my mouth than ramble on uselessly. Frustrated, I pushed my tangled mess of blonde hair away from my face and blew the remaining strands away with a huff.

"Moshing didn't help?" Craig asked quietly.

I shook my head, but then added hastily, "Um, don't get me wrong, though! It was – uh – fun! Yeah, t-totally! Loads of fun, but uh…no, I'm still uh…still twitchy me."

Craig just shrugged, saying, "Well, I was hoping it would help just loosen you up. It'll take time but don't worry." He paused and stared down blankly at the open text book. "So…what the fuck is that?"

His finger landed unceremoniously on the symbol _theta_.

"Oh, it's just a, you know, like a-a-a, uh Greek letter."

"…why the fuck is there letters in math?"

"I – erm, I don't really know."

Craig pushed his math book to the floor with his finger with a quirk of his lips before glancing back at me. Papers flew across the carpet and I couldn't help but wince as there was the distinctive sound of crunching as the book's pages bent at wrong angles face down.

"How about some more moshing?"

Tutoring Craig was going to be more challenging than I thought.

. . . . .

Day 3 began with Craig announcing his lesson for the day.

"I'm going to teach you how to play guitar."

I nearly dropped my pencil – until of course my binder went smashing to the floor, effectively making everyone in my graphics art class turn and stare at the two of us. My only class with Craig, and he usually sat on the other side of the room from, that is as of recently, now opting instead to just take this one girl's seat, forcing her to trade spots with him.

"_What?"_ I hissed. "Ack! I can't – I mean, no – yeah, I just can't. I would suck! You know, hence why I-I never uh learned cause it would just- just be awful."

He gave me that bored look.

"Meet me in the music room at three-thirty, and don't be late."

Overhead the bell rang, thus signaling the end of class. Craig swept everything from his desk back into his backpack like some sort of magician and disappeared out the classroom door – again like it was magic or something.

I wanted to punch Craig in the face because for the rest of the day I was worrying about how shitty I was going to sound on his guitar. Christ! There was no way – no freaking way – I was going to embarrass myself in trying and epically failing at playing an instrument. I learned my lesson with the trombone – never again!

But I suppose it was something of a miracle then how I was pacing the linoleum floor of the music room at 3:15…3:16.

As he's said, Craig showed up right on time, and just as he'd said, he was holding onto a dark wooden guitar in one hand. Craig just looked _right_ holding the instrument, as if it were made just the perfect shade for his black jeans and dark blue hoodie, plus the usual chullo hat with the golden dangly-things. He arched an eyebrow at me expectantly before gesturing to the stack of chairs against the back wall. I quickly took the hint, snagging us two chairs.

It was weird, just him and me, sitting alone in a giant empty classroom. We sat in the stillness for a moment, Craig tuning up his guitar and muttering something about not having a pick, more or less to himself.

"So-so…how – er, d-did you learn how play – the guitar, I mean?" I asked, pointing awkwardly at it.

"Long story," he grunted, but then glanced up at me, adding, "S'got a lot to do with Cartman and them, and some pan-flute bands."

"Oh…," I trailed off, deciding the smartest thing to do would be to just can it. Instead, I fingered the hem of my plain black t-shirt, trying to pick off any loose strands of thread without pulling it all out.

"Alright," Craig finally said after playing a few chords, "just sit there and I'll play. Close your eyes and just _relax_."

The dark haired teen began to strum, his fingers plucking effortlessly at the strings in almost a hypnotic rhythm. Slowly, he formed a soothing melody and I found myself staring blankly at his fingers as they glided across the strings.

"Wow…you – uh, I mean – you're really g-good," I stuttered, feeling suddenly very self-conscious. Craig glanced up, those dark eyes studying my every move with such intensity that I forced myself to look away. The music stopped, the last chord echoing off the walls before fading away.

"Come here."

It was a simple enough command, but coming from _Craig_ while he was looking at me like _that_. I felt as if there were rabid butterflies assaulting my stomach. Craig moved his guitar away from his lap and, with his free hand, patted his thigh. _No, he's kidding…right?_ I thought frantically, trying hard to compose myself.

"C-Craig, I just – er, d-d-don't think-,"

He silenced me with just a tilt of his chin downwards, those eyes staring up at me so solemnly through his dark lashes. Biting my lip, I rose from my chair and took a few halting steps towards his, hesitating once I got within arms reach of the other teen. Craig grasped my wrist and tugged, effectively pulling me onto him which left me to wriggle awkwardly until I was able to turn around and sit – somewhat – properly.

The height difference definitely made things worse, me being like some over-sized child to an under-sized Santa Clause. And oh god, what if Craig thought I was too heavy, but he was just suffering in silence? Am I too fat? No way, I do cardio – but does that make you lose weight? And my bones! I'm tall, oh Jesus, Craig's probably dying!

Suddenly the guitar was being angled across my lap as Craig scooted forward with his arms reaching all the way around me to guide my own hands onto the correct spots. The dark-stained wood was cool under my fingers while Craig's palms resting on mine were starkly warm – but not too warm or sweaty, just like a I'm-not-a-zombie kind of warmth.

"Okay, grip the neck like this and then strum like this," Craig firmly presses his hands onto mine until I conform to his shape, which was hard, considering his hand was about half the size as my own.

I swallowed my fears, and cautiously plucked out a few notes. Craig played with the knobs at the end of the neck, occasionally instructing me to play a certain string. And then I mustered all the courage I had and let my hand drop down the strings and produce a semi-harmonious sound.

"That's good," Craig murmured, his breath rolling off my neck. For a moment, my muscles went slack against him, until I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Uh, yeah! That – er – g-g-guitar's fun! But, studying? Y-yeah! Heh, cause…um yeah," I jolted out of his lap. Craig was watching me with that slow and curious way of his before he began to answer.

"…No, not today," Craig got up from his seat and slung the guitar's strap back around his shoulders. On anyone else, a guitar looks just douche-y but on Craig…it looked _right_.

With that, Craig walked off, his sneakers tapping against the classroom floor before the door shut softly behind him. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding in.

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><p><strong>Author's After Note Thingy: Alright, so we're breeching the pseudo attraction. I planned to make this fic fairly short, but aw hell with it, I'm gonna make it as long as I freaking want and write it as long as it takes until I'm satisfied with it, so yup. Hope you guys (and one in particular) liked it :D Review!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Alrighty people and readers. This is the third chapter and the update came pretty quick and I really wanted to put this out so please excuse any grammar errors because I try really hard to pix them as best as I can, but even I'm not perfect. Yeah what a surprise! (Just kidding, we all know that I'm far from it :P) I hope you guys like and I hope you all check out my homegirl's page - theyellowsky - You can find her under my favorite authors on my newly updated profile page ^_^**

**Read and enjoy and don't forget to review (you know who you are!)**

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><p><span>Chapter 3: Pick-Me Ups<span>

"Here, drink this."

Initially, never a good way to start a conversation, but that was just the enigma that was Craig Tucker. I guess it must have been the way he commanded me to because I ended up snatching the scotch, brandy, whiskey – whatever the hell was swishing around in the bottom of that red plastic cup and threw it back with one gulp. Goodbye twitchy freak and hello Mr. Life-of-the-Party.

But maybe I ought to back up to an hour ago when I wasn't half drunk and dancing with strangers. When it was just Craig and me, studying.

. . . . .

"_Do you like parties, Tweek?"_

_The question threw me for a moment as I glanced up at the dark haired teen who was instead staring intently at his math homework. I blinked owlishly back. _

"_Uh- n-no, but – I d-d-don't mind, I guess. Er, well it's just that – you know – I'm not a…a p-party person, per say." I ducked my head in embarrassment as I continued to work out an example problem for my 'student'. Craig snatched the pencil out of my hands before I could write another formula, leaving me to look awkwardly at my still-curled hand on his notebook._

"_Why not?"_

"_Why, uh – why sh-should I?" I challenged back._

"_You're mister popular," he stated bluntly._

"_M-me? I just – uh, d-don't flip other people off." Cue pointed stare._

_Craig rolled his eyes and now snatched the text book away from me, flipping it shut before tossing it to the floor with a thud. Frowning, I yanked his hat off and tossed it to the floor as well. He just arched a curious eyebrow at me._

"_Y-you started it," I shot back. He just chuckled slightly, an honest-to-god smile momentarily lighting up his usually scowling features._

"_Well, I think a party is in order for tonight – it's Friday, please?" _

_As if that alone could sway me. Which apparently it did because within the next half hour or so, the two of us were walking up to Token's mansion, the bay windows lit up by multi-colored and flashing lights. Already the pounding music could be heard – probably not a good sign. Hard-core partiers were already passed out on the lawn, still clutching their red plastic cup. _

"_Sh-shit," I muttered as Craig opened the door for me. Inside, people were dancing on tables and in one corner Stan was doing a keg stand, supported by Cartman and Kyle. Clyde was drunkenly trying to tango with a very tipsy Bebe while everyone cheered and even some joined in. Meanwhile, Kenny was break-dancing with Token, who was obviously better, but that didn't stop the blonde teen from whipping out some white-guy moves._

"_Yo, it's the Tweaker! 'Twitchy' Tweek-meister!" someone called from the group of dancing teens over the loud beat. A few people laughed and raised their sups to me as some sort of drunken salute, but I only felt a hot blush spread across my neck and face._

_A hand landed on my shoulder and steered me away, over to a mini-bar tucked away on the side of the expansive main room. Absently, I sat myself down on a stool and sighed deeply. _

"_One for me and my friend here," Craig ordered us two drinks, and then after glancing at me, added, "and make his something strong."_

"_Y-you know – I think c-c-coming here was, uh – a bad idea," I stuttered miserably. The bartender dropped a heavy glass in front of me filled to the rim with ice and some mysteriously dark liquid. Craig took a sip of his martini and just stared at me, gesturing for me to do the same._

"_Fuck them," Craig shrugged, leaning in closer to be heard. "We're here so you can have a good time and loosen up a bit, so don't let those idiots get to you, alright?"_

_I nodded and downed the shot with a few hearty gulps, wincing as it burned down the back of my throat. Finally, after a cough or two, I said, "One m-more please."_

_. . . . ._

From that point on, I wasn't sure how many drinks I'd had or for that matter, how many Craig had drunk, but just that I was now stuttering for an entirely different reason. Apparently, as Craig told me several times, I can handle my liquor, and this much was true, seeing as for every round of shots Craig and I did, he seemed to just get a little more…friendly.

"A-and I'm t-telling you," I grinned back at Craig widely, "Batman would k-kick Spiderman's ass."

Somehow, we had made our way to one of the plush couches in Token's mansion where Craig was sprawled out lazily in front of me. It was funny how he was so nice when he was completely hammered. It was…cute.

"You're prolly right," he drawled, "'cause you – you're so smart, dude. You prolly know e'rythang."

"I w-wouldn't say-,"

"No, no, _totally._" Craig leaned forward as if to make a point and then whispered dramatically loud, "_I'm super cereal_."

With that, Craig plunked down on my lap, twisting around so he could look up at me and grin cheekily like some sort of idiot. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him but just as well smile back. The dark haired teen, after a small hiccup, pulled his hat off and handed it out to me. I took the hint and slipped it on over my unruly blonde hair.

"You look….so _hawt_," Craig started to giggle, his face scrunching up as he watched me. His ebony hair caught the changing colored lights that played across his features in the most entrancing of ways. I felt as though I'd lost control of myself as I threaded my hand through the locks, which slid through my fingers like silken black water.

"N-no," I shook my head slightly, "…you do."

The smile faded from Craig's lips and his eyes looked impossibly dark and heated. My fingers lingered hesitantly over his exposed throat as his muscles pulled and contracted whilst he swallowed almost…nervously. My stomach twisted into knots as I realized slowly how badly I wanted to touch the rest of him; my gaze trailed down to his tight black shirt that left little to the imagination. With my other unoccupied hand, my long fingers began to glide under the material, skimming over the slight dusting trail of hair that led down, down, down.

"Dudes!" Clyde shouted, jumping in front of us. Craig scrambled out of my lap and I crossed my legs in an attempt to hide the growing tightness in my pants. "Bebe and me are back together! Can you believe that? I'm so fucking happy, you guys."

Craig and I simultaneously glanced at each other before returning back to Clyde who looked as if he was on the brink of tears. The both of us threw out some half-hearted congratulations for the guy until he finally rushed off to tell more people.

"So…uhm…."

"Yeah…great party," Craig commented awkwardly. "Guess I'll uh, just walk back to my house then. Uh, yeah, so later? Yeah."

The dark haired teen nearly bolted from the couch and staggered off out the door, leaving me to stare blankly after him. Yup, he'd definitely had too much to drink. Yet, as I leaned back against the couch, I reached for a half empty bottle of tequila in front of me.

I hadn't nearly had enough.

. . . . .

"Ack! N-n-now I-I remember – you know, why, uh I didn't go to p-parties," I groaned as I exited my second period class with Kyle and Jason in tow. The two laughed, Kyle patting me on the back.

"Hang in there, bro, and when you get home, hit the Alka-Seltzer hard – me and the boys always have a recovery day with lots of ginger ale and no lights," the Jew smirked at me before heading off to his next class with Jason, who was now sharing his war-stories of all his crazy Friday nights.

My headache hadn't gone away over the weekend and only seemed to get worse, but I had a feeling that it wasn't just the hangover, rather it had more to do with I wanted to do to Craig. Just thinking about that moment made my brain flip into over-drive. If I thought I'd had pressure before – well this was just ridiculous. I could only pray to the Keg Gods that Craig was so hammered that he won't remember shit.

As if on autopilot, I opened my locker and placed a few books back inside, staring yet not seeing, not really anyway. My only chance was that I could dodge Craig…for the rest of my miserable life and maybe call this whole deal off.

_Slam!_

"You…fucker!"

The distant sounds of someone yelling and impacts against metal shook me from my own pity party. _Shit_, I thought to myself, _some nerd is being forced into a locker or something again_. Without hesitation, I ran off down the hallway and towards the sounds of the fight. There probably wasn't much I could do, but at least with my height I could scare the bully off or something, with any luck.

I rounded the corner and felt my heart skip a beat.

Three meatheads from the baseball team were standing around one pissed off Craig Tucker, who was sporting a small dribble of blood from one side of his mouth and leaning heavily against the lockers. Again, I couldn't help but be struck by how slender Craig was and kind of short. He wasn't thick with muscle like the jocks but rather well-toned and slim.

"Hey, Tweek, what's up brosky?" the tallest of the three greeted me with a jerk of his head. "This little asshole was mouthing off, can you believe the nerve? I mean seriously."

I glanced over at Craig who was staring at me openly, eyes wide in shock and maybe horror too, I wasn't sure, but my hopes were dashed. There was no doubt in my mind that Craig remembered all of it. _Every last little detail_. My heart leapt up to my throat painfully.

"G-g-get the _fuck_ out of here," I growled lowly, feeling suddenly pissed off at this whole situation. The three jocks stared at me as if I'd just grown a second head.

"What?" the ringleader took a step toward me, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I gotta be hearing shit because there's no way you just said what I think you said, _right?_"

"Y-you heard me," I let my voice drop down, forcing myself not to quaver. The jock smirked, placing his hands on the center of my chest and gave a little push, tiny and insignificant, but there was a threat behind his eyes. "D-don't f-f-fucking touch m-me."

"O-o-o-or what? Gonna go get your football friends to rough me up?" he mock stuttered back. "Give me a fucking brea-,"

I reeled my fist back and punched him square in the jaw.

And then it seemed like the world went into slow motion as I saw that asshole jock stagger backwards, yet regained himself quickly. It was the way he tensed up his shoulders that I knew he was preparing to strike, but with his bozos surrounding me, I didn't have a chance to escape. His fist came barreling in at me and it was in that split second when I flinched that I regretted this decision of getting violent with someone off the baseball team.

Until of course that blow never came, but rather I was greeted by the sick sound of a body crashing back into the lockers. When I opened my eyes, Craig was hunched down over himself, grasping at his torso and coughing, a slight spatter of blood on the floor at his feet.

The look on the my face just then must have been something priceless because the head jock took a small step back away from me – probably the smartest thing he'd ever done in his life.

Furiously, I snatched him by the collar on his jersey and threw him none too gently against the opposing concrete wall, yet I didn't give him another opportunity. Tightening my back as I readied to strike, my fist made contact with a wet crack.

The jock stared up at me with wide eyes before turning slightly to see where my knuckles had made contact with the stone, looking absolutely terrified. Flaunting my height a bit, I heaved him from the ground a good few inches, letting his toes dangle and skim against the linoleum flooring.

"Go," I ground out between my teeth. Once I released him, the three hoodlums took off down the emptied halls, leaving me with a nonresponsive Craig and my busted hand.

With a deep sigh, I knelt down in front of the black haired teen and bit at my lip nervously. This was so not how I wanted us to meet again.

"H-h-hey – uh, Craig? I-I…um, are you – you know – alright?" I shook his shoulder lightly.

Craig's head lolled to one side yet his eyes were open and a smirk was plastered across his face unceremoniously as he answered, "I've been better."

Already, I felt the dawning of blush creeping up my neck and quickly decided to pull away.

"C-can uh – can you st-stand?"

He got to his feet shakily, relying heavily upon the metallic wall for support. Even I winced when I saw how shaky his legs were underneath him. _Oh god, I hope he didn't break anything or got brain damage or shit, I don't know, anything permanent. Shit what if he's actually in a lot of pain but doesn't want to say anything? _My mind reeled helplessly into possibilities. Craig limped along, making halting progress, which only confirmed my fear about pain anytime he grimaced.

"H-here," I crouched slightly before him, extending my arms out behind my back in what I hoped to be an inviting gesture. I could practically feel Craig's skeptical stare. Yet, before I had a chance to yell at him to just fucking get on, I felt the weight of a body being pressed down on top of me as the shorter teen hefted himself gracelessly onto my shoulders, latching his hands around my neck.

Carefully, I positioned his legs though my arms and tilted forward just enough to allow Craig to stay on me without me having to grab his butt for support or him choking me nearly half to death.

"H-hey, C-craig?"

"Hmm?" he grunted.

"I – uh, I-I'm sorry."

"Just shut the hell up, Tweek, and carry me."

I'd never been happier to shut my mouth.

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><p><strong>Author's after note: SQUUEEE! A PIGGY BACK RIDE :D<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I know this update came out really late, but I was pretty busy, yet I still really wanted to get it up. So, I'm really sorry about the major delay, but I hope you guys like it. I don't have much else to say other than I hope you all enjy and review this next chapter. ^_^**

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><p><span>Chapter 4: Unprecidented <span>

Craig looked somehow out of place against the bright sterile walls of the nurse's office. He was lying down on his back on one of the many beds lined up in the backroom, staring up blankly at the ceiling while the nurse was off retrieving an ice pack for his bruises. I just sat, hunched over on myself while my temples throbbed, fingering the gauze band-aide wrapped around my left hand where I'd apparently broken the skin atop my knuckles.

"So, when do you plan on giving me my hat back?"

His voice broke into my thoughts suddenly, forcing my gaze back up to him which he returned lightly. My mind flicked patronizingly over to the party and what I'd been planning on doing just after Craig had given me his hat – what I'd _needed_ to do. I bite the inside of my lip as I forced the thought away.

"I-I-I – uh, ahem, don't… er exactly kn-know p-per say," I finally managed to get the words out, feeling hot and flustered. Craig watched me intently, so many emotions flickering through those mysterious blue depths.

Just when I was sure he was about to say something to me, the nurse, a boisterous and plump woman burst in through the curtains, holding an armful of ice packs, each wrapped individually in a towel. She set the bulk of them on the foot of the bed, letting them pool around Craig's black converse.

"Well boys," she smiled widely back at the two of us, "I hope these will be enough because I have a nurse conference to attend right now. Do you think I can trust you two to not steal my ice packs?"

I couldn't believe how sternly she was glaring at the two of us. Craig and I exchanged another 'look'.

"Y-yes, m-ma'am," I nodded. The middle-aged woman smiled again, her dimples showing clearly on her round face.

"Then I trust you young men to get all patched up and return to class shortly after, right?" she grinned again at me. I nodded mutely, hoping that if I stayed silent enough, she might just leave so my headache wouldn't get any worse. "What nice young men! Take care, you two, buh-bye now!"

We watched as she exited the back room and headed out the door, leaving me in blissful silence once more. With a groan, I rested my head down on the side of the bed and sighed.

"You alright?"

I glanced up at Craig who was now propped up on his elbows, staring back at me with an expression of almost-concern. My gut twisted in on itself and felt suddenly that I was going to puke. _Oh god, please don't hurl, please don't hurt,_ I begged my stomach silently.

"Y-yeah – shit! I-I-I'm f-fine, b-but are – uh, you?"

Craig blinked back at me owlishly before glancing away sharply. "Yeah, I'm good," he replied almost gruffly, yet his faintly blushing cheeks said otherwise. "You know, when you were helping me out, you barely stuttered at all. You made those guys nearly shit themselves."

Now it was my turn to blush as I ducked my head in embarrassment. I could barely mumble that 'it was no big deal' but Craig seemed intent on pursuing this topic.

"No, I'm serious. You were calmer than I'd ever seen you," he arched an eyebrow at me as if he was impressed. "Oh, hey, will you give me an ice pack?"

I reached down absently to grip one of the cold squishy bags, trying to look anywhere but Craig. _Shit, he probably thinks I'm a freak, _I frowned to myself as I handed it off to him. Just as I was about to pull away, Craig gripped onto my hand, forcing me to glance back up into those starkly dark eyes.

"Y-ye-yes?" I swallowed nervously, lightly trying to tug away from his firm hold but without any luck.

"Your hand…," he trailed off, running his thumb lightly across the growing blood-stain on the gauze wrapped around my knuckles. My fingers twitched minutely under his careful touch. He asked softly, "Does it hurt?"

"Uh –," my face began to heat up as I finally freed my hand from his. "N-no, I'm – um – f-fine, you know, j-just…g-good."

Craig shook his head with a soft chuckle and I couldn't help but admire him – I'd never seen Craig look so…happy. He leaned back against the bed pillows, putting a hand across his eyes as he continued to smile to himself, as if laughing at a private joke. I rested my head down upon my arms and watched him silently.

There were so many things about Craig that I didn't even know, but still wanted to find out.

"Tweek?"

"H-huh?"

"…thanks."

I grinned back at him, feeling a surge in my chest of something warm and unfamiliar as I replied, "W-w-what are f-friends – um, f-for?"

. . . . .

"I can't believe you've never done this."

I glared back at the smirking dark-haired teen as I tried to defend myself, "W-well, w-w-why would I – erm, h-have?"

"Dude, you were a kid once, right?"

"…sh-shut it, _F-f-fucker_," I snapped as I let Craig drag me into the laser-tag arena. We were already all geared up with the vests and plastic guns in hand, along with all the other eight year olds. Large foam obstacles were set up in an expansive room that was drowned in black lights. Off on the side lines, mothers watched concernedly as we joined the group of children nonchalantly.

"Easy now," he quirked a grin my direction, "don't cuss in front of the kids."

"Y-y-you are s-so go-going down, a-a-ass w-wipe," I growled, dramatically lifting my gun into the air. Craig started to say something else when the rest of the lights dimmed, leaving us in disorienting purple light which made Craig look impossibly dark along with the other kids, except for the ones wearing white shirts. They seemed to glow brightly.

"Better move," Craig warned before darting off in one direction and disappearing behind a few of the structures. Fake laser sounds filled the air as kids hollered with the rush of joy and exhilaration. I screamed and threw myself behind the nearest cover – a piece of foam that looked like a big tunnel.

"Ack! Jesus Christ!" I hissed to myself as a kid came barreling in at me, intent on 'killing' me. My twitchy fingers reacted instantly, firing the small toy gun rapidly as the targets on the child's vest lit up – a direct hit. Angrily, he stormed off to the side lines.

Children ducked and dashed about, leaving me to scramble awkward across the so-called battlefield. My height was definitely a disadvantage, I realized a tad too late.

I wasn't sure why Craig thought that this would calm me down, and now I was starting to suspect that he didn't, but I kept on firing at basically nothing and dodging like my life depended on it.

Just as I rounded a corner on one of the bigger foam blocks, an older kid – maybe a tween or so – came around as well, his sights locked suddenly on me. He was pudgy and reminded me suddenly of Cartman, the thought instantly making me jolt backwards. Blindly, I retreated back the way I came, trying to run and still stay low to the ground, no doubt looking pretty stupid.

The hefty tween thundered right behind me, hot on my heels, yet I managed to stay just barely ahead as I threw myself around the obstacles. Suddenly, I felt a rough tug on my arm, effectively yanking me between a close space, almost an alley of foam between two large chunks.

Sure enough, I was chest to chest with the person who had rescued me from my pursuer – Craig. His smirk was illuminated from the black lights which made him look just that much more pleased.

"Gotcha," he smirked back up at me, his small pistol resting against one of the fatal targets over my heart. Outside our little hide out, the kids were slowly picking each other off. I couldn't help but feel my heart quicken as I stared blankly down at Craig, his face cast in shadows at reminded me suddenly of that night, when we'd almost – I forced the thought back away. "What is it, Tweek?"

"N-n-nothing," I lied through my teeth. My brain felt fuzzy as I recalled that night, my hands lingering across his well muscled abdomen, that thin trail of hair that I was dying to follow downwards, his flushed face, our ragged breaths. Unconsciously, I felt a violent shiver rack my body.

Suddenly, there was too much pressure with Craig standing so close I could smell that tantalizing hint of his cologne with every hot breath that rolled down my neck. His body seemed to radiate this penetrating heat that was leaving me struggling for every breath and made me feel unbearably confined to my clothes.

"I-I-I g-g-gotta – shit! – I n-need to g-get out of – uhm, here now. Ack!" I practically squeaked as I forced my way out past the shorter teen. I need air, and I needed to put some distance between Craig – Craig who was making me lose my cool (or what little I did have), Craig who was making me flustered.

There was just too much fucking _pressure_.

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><p><strong>Author's After note: Alright, so this was short but it was just becasue the next chapter will be longer and have much more details and stuff, if you know what I mean ;) I'm just building a bit more sexual tension :D Please don't hate me for being a tease! And I hope you guys liked the laser scene because I had a lot of fun writing it ^_^ BLU will be updated, hopefully soon, so check that out.<strong>

**Btw, this story is dedicated to a good friend of mine theyellowsky so, you ppl check her out, she's listed on my favorite authors :D She's supa cool!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Hey everyone ^_^ thanks for the reviews and for reading this story. I really hope you all are enjoying it as much as I'm having writing it. I know I usually update on fridays but oh well, this is a little surprise for my friend I've been talking about in pretty much everyone of my author's notes. Yup, so surprise! :D I hope you enjoy!**

**Yeah, btw, I have no idea how long this will go honestly, so pretty much as long as I see fit. Yup yup. Read, enjoy and relax!**

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><p><span>Chapter 5: Draws and Drawbacks<span>

Avoidance had never been my strong suit, but somehow, I'd managed to dodge Craig the whole weekend after the laser-tag incident and even got through a whole Monday without much contact. Come Tuesday morning, I was feeling fairly confident on my ability to dodge him.

_Yeah…for the rest of my life,_ I mentally groaned. Craig's method of making me relax was fairly counter-intuitive, considering now anytime I was around him my heart started to do this funny flip-flop thing – or maybe I was just having a heart attack. _Oh god, Craig's literally going to kill me!_

Then again, when I weighed the option of death, or having to face him after we had that moment…moments – Jesus Christ, I was just about ready to crack! The grip on the text book in my hand was becoming shakier, my whole body wobbling as I blinked a few too many times. _Maybe I can just die if I think about it really, really hard. But what if I give myself an aneurism? Oh god!_

I deftly steered myself to my locker, practically crumpling against it as I pressed my cheek against the cool metal surface. One breath in, one breath out. My mind's eye conjured an image of Craig, who said carelessly, "come on Tweek, just relax".

"Hey dude."

"Sh-shit!" I yelped, effectively dropping my text book with a loud thud. My heart was hammering in my chest seemingly intent on escaping as I turned around. As if my thoughts alone had summoned him, Craig was standing behind me, looking oddly cheerful.

"That's some way to greet a friend," he snorted sarcastically while he kneeled down to retrieve my book. After he brushed it off slightly, he replaced it back in my awaiting hands. I could only swallow and nod like an idiot, but he continued regardless, "Dude, so I have some fucking awesome news to tell you. You know how I said a while back that I was having trouble with that one section in math, and you helped me figure it out? Well, guess who just aced a pop quiz on it?"

I think that was the most that Craig had ever said to me at once. With a flash, he was holding out a quiz to me with a fat _95+_ circled on top in red, trying and failing to hide his proud grin. Hot butterflies squirmed in my stomach, yet something akin to affection bloomed in my chest as I smiled just as brightly back.

"H-ho-holy s-shit! Th-th-that's…," I trailed off, stumbling over my words inelegantly. Instead, I let my free hand drop down on his uncovered head of dark locks and loosely ruffled as Craig began to laugh – honest to god laughter. I tried again a tad gentler, "That's g-great – um, Craig."

Suddenly, his arms locked around my chest in a bone-crushing hug and his face pressed into the small alcove between my shoulder and neck, breathing out a word that sounded like a muffled 'thanks'. For a second, I stood stunned while my heart raced erratically at his proximity and the scent of his masculine, clean cologne washed over me. I forgot how to breathe.

"C-Craig," I managed to choke out. Instantly he released me and took a small step backwards, though his face was now flushed and the hint of a smile lingered on his lips.

"Come on, you twitchy bastard," he gave me a light punch in the arm, "We're having a celebratory sleepover at my house. I'll even make you some coffee."

_Self control, be damned,_ I thought heedlessly.

"I-I'll h-hold you t-to it."

. . . . .

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No way, dude, I'm telling you I can do it."

"D-don't – erm, underesti-m-mate him," I warned.

Craig stared back at me skeptically as he handed Clyde the liter of Pepsi cola along with a wadded up five-dollar bill that he placed down on his kitchen table. Token snickered as he set his own five bucks opposite of Craig's.

Token sat back in his chair as he said, "Dude,Clydecan chug like mother f-"

"Fine; when I see it, I'll believe it," Craig shrugged before glancing back at me. "Your bet, Tweek?"

"N-no th-thanks," I shook my head, letting my blonde spikes bounce freely. "M-might as well – you know, k-k-keep the, uh betting p-pool even."

Clydetook the incentive to unscrew the cap which let out a loud hiss of air before bringing the lip of the bottle up to his mouth. He gave one brave smile before tilting his head backwards and allowing the dark liquid to flow down his throat. We all watched, amazed, as steadily, but surely, the soda began to disappear with a rhythmic _glug. _

Not once breaking for air,Clydedowned the entire liter of Pepsi, not even batting an eye as he set the emptied plastic container down. After cutting loose a giant belch, he and Token high-fived dramatically while Craig slid his money over to the two winners, all the while grumbling about how ridiculous they were being.

"Don't be such a sore loser," Token stuck his tongue out at Craig who just flipped him his middle finger nonchalantly.

"Okay, then you two grab all the snacks – don't forget Tweek's cold coffee – and Tweekers and I will go set up the video games and movie marathon. Come on," Craig latched onto my wrist and pulled me along through his house and up his stairs until we reached his bedroom.

"I-I h-hate to s-s-say I t-told you so," I pursed my lips back at the shorter teen who in turn just rolled his eyes and flopped down on his bed. While Craig flipped through channels on his TV, I took a moment to glance around again. It was a rare opportunity when I was allowed into Craig's room.

It reminded me of him with its pale blue walls and band posters scattered across the walls. Hid bed was large, low to the ground, and draped with that dark blue comforter just as it had been before. The mattress sank just so underneath my weight while I sat down on edge beside Craig.

"How's your hand?" he glanced over at me and propped himself up on his elbows to eye me casually. I ran my palm across my scabbed over knuckles and once again felt those damn butterflies flutter uncomfortably.

"I-it's al-alright," I muttered, daring to meet Craig's gaze. He shifted forward, reaching out for my hand and bringing it back down in front of him, then let it rest upon his chest while he inspected the scrape. The angle forced me to turn my body until I was sitting on my knees on the bed, my legs nearly brushing against his side.

Cautiously, I flexed my hand, my finger splayed out across Craig until they reached past the neck of his shirt, barely hovering above the base of his neck. I watched in fascination as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing under his slight one day's worth of stubble. I let my eyes trail up his neck, along his jaw before resting on his lips that were pulled into a faint frown of confusion.

"T-Tweek," he stuttered hoarsely, "what – what are you doing?"

I bit my lip as my hand roamed downward, just out of his grasp and down the front of his gray band t-shirt. My mind was somewhere else completely, back at that party, back with my hands against Craig's skin.

"Tell me to stop," I murmured, daring to lean in closer. I felt intoxicated, my body was heated, and each shuddering breath from Craig as I drifted lower only spurred me on. For the first time, I realized that I wanted something, wanted someone. And that someone was Craig, Craig with this dark hair and even darker eyes, Craig with his hidden smiles and rare laughter.

My hands lurched forward, diving up underneath his shirt and pushing it up to feed my hungry eyes. Just as I'd remembered, his body was amazing – pale and muscled with a thin taunting line of hair that filled the small rivulet between his abs. Unconsciously, I licked my lips as I pressed the material farther up past his ribs.

"Shi-shit!" Craig gasped, our eyes locking for a split second. What I found in them was not disgust nor fear, just blind want and need. Furiously, Craig latched onto my hair, combing his hands through it and giving short firm tugs that made my own breath hitch in my throat.

"Damn it, Token, don't drop the chips!"Clyde's voice floated up the stairs to us, like a bucket of cold water to the face. Me, straddling Craig, who was nearly half-naked, with my hands all over his. Ideally not something either of us would want our two very straight friends walking in on.

I was jumping off of Craig in a heartbeat, him fixing his clothes and trying to lie across his bed unceremoniously. Meanwhile, I became very interested in the band poster of some guys called the _Swellers_.

"Alright guys, we got all the shit, but _someone_ just had to make some pizza bagels," Token shot a pointed look at Clyde whose arms were filled with bags and packaged of junk food. I caught the cold bottle of Harbucks mocha coffee, staring blankly at it as I tried to remember when and why I'd asked for this. _Oh right_.

"Th-thanks," I muttered, twisting the top off and taking a large swig, yet I barely even tasted it – I'd become so accustomed to coffee it was nearly like drinking water for all the crap onto the bed next to Craig who was trying almost desperately not to look at me.

"Everything alright?"Clydefrowned, snagging a small bag of cookies from the heap. Now Craig and I exchanged a look, a look that held too much weight and too much meaning to be deciphered in than one quick instance.

"Um, y-y-yeah."

I looked away.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Okay, now I'm just being cruel ^_^ don't worry, things will heat up (yeah, even more than it just did in this chapter if you would believe) I hope my characterization is alright and that you guys are digging this relationship and stuff. Yup, so this is dedicated to m good friend <span>theyellowsky<span> She is super awesome and super supportive of everything I do :D Don't know where i'd be without cha baby! *heart***


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